


The Last Piece

by White_Rainbow



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Outbound Flight - Timothy Zahn, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: Thrawn - Timothy Zahn
Genre: Brotherly Love, Fanart, Gen, Homelessness, Origin Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-30 18:07:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12658719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/White_Rainbow/pseuds/White_Rainbow
Summary: Before they were Mitth'ras'safis and Mitth'raw'nuruodo, they were just Ras and Raw. And all they had was each other.





	The Last Piece

**Author's Note:**

> Ras is twelve and Raw just turned three
> 
> In this fic, the Chiss Ascendancy system has a shared ecosystem, as each planets seasons are in synch.

Ras started his search for a home at the First House of the Ruling Families of the Chiss Ascendancy.

He tried to look professional. He smoothed down his tangled hair, straightened the heavily wrinkled jacket that was two sizes too big, tried to rub away mud from his cheeks with equally grubby hands.

He hoped it was enough. So much was riding on this...

He made it three steps onto the Estate grounds before they turned him away.

 _It’s alright_ , Ras reassured himself, _we will just pick up our coats and sneak on to another mass transport to the next House along the Path of House's route. There were plenty of more houses_.

The Second House and Third House were not much different. They shooed them away, claiming street urchins had no place within the Ruling Families.

The Fourth House accepted his request for audience, but turned him away the moment he mentioned he had a three-year-old brother.

The Fifth and Sixth Houses only wished to adopt Ras, and that was not an option.

The Seventh House, however…

The Seventh House was different. The Seventh House gave Ras some hope.

Because the Seventh House only asked for Raw.

Ras accepted their offer immediately. If he could at least guarantee a safe and promising future for his younger brother then it was all that mattered.

Raw disagreed strongly with this.

Even at barely three years old, the boy was quick, strong, and stubborn. He slammed his small fists into the groin of the syndic that tried to snatch him up. He bit the other syndic’s hand who took his arm.

“No, no, no, no!” Raw growled and hissed. “I won’t leave Ras! I won’t! _”_

He headbutted a guard who managed to pick him up. When blood was drawn,the syndic asked them to leave.

Raw following behind Ras, head held proudly as a goose egg grew on his forehead.

Opportunities were being closed too rapidly for Ras and his young brother. Food was growing scarcer as the autumn weather grew more merciless throughout the Chiss Ascendancy. They barely survived the first series of winters; Ras knew they would not survive a second. Time was running out.

Ras and Raw found shelter in the alleyway a few blocks from the Seventh House’s estate. Ras propped discarded metal plates against the alley wall like a makeshift lean-to. They huddled beneath it just as the rain began to pour over them. Most of the droplets slid over their metallic shelter, and Ras’ thin body provided somewhat of a windbreak for his shivering little brother.

Ras waited for Raw to fall asleep in the crook of his arm before allowing the tears come. He tried to let his sobs come in only soft breaths, tried not to shiver too much against the cold rain beating at his back.

He wept most nights, but tonight...tonight he was so close to finding a home for Raw. He should have just left him there, Raw would have forgiven him, eventually.

Ras had already accepted his fate that he would eventually die in some unnamed alley within the system. If starvation did not claim him, disease or an anonymous mugging would. That was not an option for Raw. Raw was meant for so much more than this. He deserved a chance at a life, a life that Ras couldn’t provide him.

“Ras?”

Ras’ heart lurched. “You should be sleeping. ” He forced his voice to his usual good cheer. “Little warriors are at their best, when they get a full night’s rest.”

Usually that rhyme inspired Raw to try and get sleep through hunger pangs and violent storms, but tonight Raw asked: “Are you cross with me?”

Ras wiped away his tears. “Of course not.”

“I banged my head against a guard.”

“Yes...yes, you did.”

“And I bit the syndic.”

“You did, indeed.”

“He was going to take me away.”

“He was going to give you a good life, Raw.”

“I don’t want a good life,” Raw said, his body trembling. “I will bite anyone who tries to...to... sipprate us.”

“Separate…” Ras corrected, gently.

“Thank you. I will bite them if they separate us.”

A howling gust of wind beat at Ras’ bony back and slivers of icy air slipped into their shelter. He pulled Raw closer, the grimy jacket barely covering them both. “Raw, you are born for a life better than this.”

“No.”

Ras had to laugh at this, despite his teeth chattering incessantly. “N-no? You would rather just f-freeze to death in an alley than have a full belly near a f-fire in one of these h-h-houses? What about your dream to become a warrior one d-d-day?”

Raw slipped out of the large jacket and knelt in front of where Ras sat. He balled his small cerulean fists and set his jaw as the winds whipped around his matted clumps of blue-black hair. His scarlet eyes, glowed with a determination that Ras envied.

“A warrior does not leave his charge.”

Ras frowned. “Raw, I am older than you. You are _my_ charge.”

“Did I not steal bread for us last week?”

“You did, but-”

“And I warned you about the bad men coming to take the broken heater we found two days ago?”

“They still took it the next night, but yes...”

Raw lifted his chin. “I will be able to do much more for you when I’m grown. I get smarter every day. I get braver every day. You can be safe and cry and I will fight for you.”

Ras sat up. “I do not cry.”

“Every night you do, when you believe I’m asleep.”

“Raw…”

“You feel better after you cry. I pretend to be a sleep to let you.”

Ras leaned forward and grabbed Raw’s arms. “Raw, listen to me. You should not have to look over your _older_ brother like this. You should be concerned with school and playing and fussing over normal things like baths and bedtimes. This is not the life you were destined to lead. If anyone is to look after you, let it be someone stronger than me.”

“A warrior does not leave his charge,” Raw said firmly.

“Pfassk,” Ras hissed, but pulled Raw into a hard hug. “You are so stubborn!”

Raw climbed into Ras’ lap and pressed his head against his brother’s chest. “Are you sure you are not cross with me?”

“Never. You drive me mad some days, but I am never angry at you. In fact...” The tears were coming again, but there was no sense hiding them from his observant younger sibling. “I am very proud of you.”

“I fought like a warrior today?”

“Very much so.”

Raw clutched the front of Ras’ shirt as the wind beat against the metal panels, whistling and shrieking on all sides.

“Raw...tomorrow we’ll sneak onto the Unity Planet-skipper to see the Eighth House.”

“I know.”

“Please, promise me you will not bite any of them.”

“No.”

“Raw, I am serious.”

“So am I.”

Ras grinded his teeth. He hoped one day Raw would grow out of his bull-headedness. Perhaps one of these houses will teach him to respect authority. “You do know I am older than you right?”

“But I am the warrior.”

“...Just get some sleep.”

When sleep finally came to Ras, he dreamed of Raw fully grown, tall and healthy and clean. He carried a stack of ancient books in one hand and a scepter in the other. He would be a leader and a fine one. Ras was acutely aware he was not in the dream. He existed on the other side of the dream’s narrative, looking from a great beyond and smiling down on his little brother with pride.

\-----

Ras and Raw spent the night in an abandoned warehouse a mile away from the Eighth House. It was drizzling the following morning and Ras used it to wash he and his little brother as much as he could. The sliver of soap he stole a month ago dissolved in his hand by the time he finished cleaning Raw. He hoped the lilac scent would overwrite their rank odor enough to allow them passage through the front door.

“Tell me the plan again,” Ras instructed, as he scrubbed furiously at the mud stains of his jacket while Raw dressed.

“If they let you in, I sit in the parlour. If they call for me, but I don’t see you, I run. If anyone tries to take me somewhere without you, I run. If I see you and you give the signal, I run.”

“And what’s my signal?”

Raw huffed. “You cross your eyes, like this.”

Ras knew Raw was giving a rote answer of these rules, but as long as his little brother knew what to do, it was enough to soothe Ras’ nerves. He also needed to brace himself for the possibility that if Raw saw Ras was in trouble, the little warrior would not run, but charge in, biting everyone in his path.

The jacket was about as free of mud as he could make it and he pulled it over himself, carefully rolling up the sleeves and buttoning each fastener to hide the tattered shirt beneath. The pants were frayed at the bottom, and he hoped no one would notice the round holes on the soles of his moccasins.

“How do I look?” Ras asked.

“Like my big brother,” Raw said, matter-of-factly. Yet the blatant statement somehow gave Ras a swell of pride. It felt better than a forced compliment at the very least.

“Wish me luck?”

Raw walked up and hugged Ras’ leg. “I will bite anyone who tries to s-s- _seppeprate_ us.”

Ras sighed and patted Raw’s damp, matted hair. “Fair enough.”

\-----

The Eighth Ruling House was far less intimidating than the previous Houses Ras had seen. The ceilings were lower, the deep gray wall panels were modest, and the tapestries, rich with burgundy and black accents, had a sense of history to them, unlike the stiff, bright artwork of other estates. The warmth of the House helped ease his nerves, his tremors were not from nervousness.

Ras had eaten a bit of bread two day ago, and this morning he had pretended not to be hungry so that Raw could eat the last of their dried jerky.

 _I can pass out later,_ he reminded himself as waves of dizziness came over him. _The sooner they turn me away, the sooner I can faint. I’ll tell just Raw I need a nap. It’ll be fine. Everything will be fine._

The guards opened the audience chamber’s large double-doors to a long, burgundy carpet etched in golden stitches. Ras felt guilty putting his filthy feet on the pretty satin fabric, but he also reveled in how soft and plush it felt.

The two elders sat in sensible black chairs with plump wine-colored cushions on a black platform. Ras walked the carpeted path, but stopped a respectable distance away, so they would not have to endure his stench.

“Master...Ras, is it?” The eldest chiss wore gray and red robes, a tall, cylindrical hat and round spectacles resting on his nose. “You say you are here to apply as…” he frowned at his datapad. “As what exactly?”

“I am here to request a place in your house for myself and for my brother, honorable syndic,” Ras had this part well-practiced. “I will fill any position you see fit.”

“And your brother?” The bespectacled elder asked.

“He is three years old, but I assure you has promise to be a great warrior one day for your house.”

“And where is your family?” The elder pressed.

This question always eventually came up. And each time it did, Ras’ mind went hurtling back to that night.

_His baby brother cries in his arms as he stands before the smoldering remains the dilapidated shack he called home and the ashes of his family within. He thinks to himself that the accidental fire was a blessing. He hopes the nightmare was over. His own bruises would heal and his brother would always be safe._

Ras soon realized they had merely walked away from one nightmare and into another.

“They passed away,” he said finally.

“I am sorry...” The bespectacled elder frowned. “Unfortunately…”

Ras knew that word too well, he started to turn and leave as the elder finished with “...we do not take charity case. But good luck to you and…”

“May we see your younger brother?”

Ras spun back around to face the elders and blinked dumbly at the younger of the two chiss.

The other elder was dressed in a sharp military uniform of black with burgundy accents. He was of a thicker build, gray streaking his blue-black hair and deep lines etched his angular face. His left ear was little more than a nub and there were scars along the left side of his face like a violet lightening frozen in time.

“If that is alright with you, young Master Ras.”

Ras drew in a deep breath, adrenaline keeping him upright while his starvation threatening to overtake him. “Yes, of course…” He shakily walked down the long carpet.

Stars sparkled at the edge of his vision as he tried to push open the double-doors. They didn’t budge. Eventually, the guards came over to help him.

Raw was just outside the chamber, sitting on a large arm chair, muddy, bare feet swinging back and forth as he waited.

“Raw, come in.”

Raw tilted his head at his older brother. “Are your eyes crossing? Shall I run?”

Ras blinked furiously to clear his hazy head. “What? No, don’t run! Just come here.”

He held out his hand and Raw hopped down to take it.

Ras and Raw walked hand-in-hand towards the elders until Ras halted them at an appropriate distance.

The scarred elder asked with a warm smile and boisterous voice: “And what is your name, young master?”

Raw dropped Ras’ hand and stepped forward, taking what he called “a warrior’s stance”: Feet parted, shoulders squared, fists balled.

“Raw!” The name came out like a chimaera cub’s growl.

The scarred elder’s smile only broadened and he nodded approvingly. “That is a strong name. Is it one that would fit well in the Mitth household?”

“It would,” Raw said, and Ras’ heart swelled at his little brother’s confidence.

“And you, Ras. How would you serve our house?”

“I will clean, I can cook a little...I can really do anything you need and-”

“No, Master Ras.” The scarred elder leaned forward. “I already see that Master Raw is suited as a warrior of the Mitth house, but how will _you_ serve our house?”

He was not sure how to answer.

If Raw was set to become a warrior in the Mitth House then his job was done. If they did not need him as a servant to take Raw then his goal was done. He would take his leave and...

Raw suddenly whipped his head around, eyes large and wild. Ras’ eyes widened as his little brother bared his teeth.

“ _I...Will...Bite...Them!”_ His fierce little brother mouthed silently.

Ras swallowed hard.

“Sir,” Ras walked up and put a hand on Raw’s shoulder. “I am an apt learner. I may not be a warrior like my brother, but I am a thinker. I adapt, I persevere, I move forward. Any house would be lucky to have us.” He squeezed Raw’s shoulder. “Both of us.”

The scarred elder arched an eyebrow at the eldest. “You did complain that not nearly enough of our youth have an interest in politics. Why not a rags-to-riches boy with streets smarts to add to our soft-minded ranks?”

The elder grunted. “Do you have a mind for politics, son?”

“He stole a book about the J...J...Junkraka once!” Raw added, helpfully.

Ras shot a warning look at his younger sibling, “I do have an _interest_ in the Ascendancy’s political structure, especially the early _Ju’krutha’ca_ era. And…and I was going to return the book when I was finished.”

The bespectacled elder snorted. “Well you can add that scandalously-obtained book to our shelves then. I believe we learn a thing or two from that golden era in this day and age.”

Ras can’t remember the last time an adult had smiled at him as genuinely as this one did now. “I...I agree, syndic.”

“I am Mitth’orr’nuruodo,” said the scarred elder, “and this stuffy man is Mitth’anni’safis. Welcome to House Mitth, Eighth Ruling Family of the Ascendancy. Raw, you shall be part of our nuruodo sect and Ras you shall- _oh_!”

Ras felt something slam against the back of his head.

It took a moment to realize it was the ground. He could have sworn he was standing...

“Ras! Ras!” He heard his brother cry.

Dimly he hoped that if he was about to die, that Raw would still be accepted.

At the very least, he hoped Raw wouldn’t bite anyone.

\-----

Ras woke to the warm, inviting smell of smoked meats.

“Ras,” someone whispered. _“Ras…they have bacon._ ”

He felt something tap against his bottom lip and his eyes shot open to see a strip of bacon hover over his eyes. When it disappeared, a small chiss boy in a black uniform popped into view. “They have a lot of bacon and they gave it all to us!”

“Raw?” Ras’ voice came out hoarse. His head swam, but he also felt strangely...refreshed.

He still wore his frayed pants, but his shoes had been replaced with warm socks and his shirt was clean and smelled fresh. Slowly, he sat up and noticed Raw was sitting beside him. He was still grimy like Ras, but his clothes were completely clean. On his lap was an assortment meats, cheese, slices of colorful bread Ras didn’t recognize.

The room was small and beige, undecorated save for a single wall-sized painting of a chiss that looked similar to a scarless Mitth’orr’nuruodo on an armored battle-tauntaun.

“Where...are we?”

“We are quar...quartent...quartenttine…”

“Quarantined?”

Raw nodded. “We have bugs, so we must stay until they’re dead. The medicine tastes like oranges. Also, the Med tech said you were mal...norsh? You have to eat a lot of bacon.” Raw waved the bacon at him until Ras took it and stuck it in his mouth.

It was the most amazing piece of food Ras had ever eaten in his young life, the perfect amount of crunch, the fat was greasy and rich, salted and smokey and perfect. Though he was not entirely sure if he was handed a piece of cooked leather that he wouldn’t have had the exact same reaction.

“I am not surprised we have ‘bugs’, and I am sure she said I was malnourished,” Ras said, picking up another bacon strip, “but I doubt they said bacon was the prescription for my malnourishment.”

“I perscripshun it for you,” Raw said, stubbornly, sliding the whole plate towards Ras, turning it so the bacon was closest to his older brother. “You love bacon.”

Ras laughed. “And how would you know what I enjoy? We’ve been eating out of rubbish bins most of your life.”

Raw tilted his head. “Because you always hold on to the last piece of bacon a little longer before giving it to me. And you always lie and you say it’s because you’re full. But I know you’re not because we are never full.”

Ras felt a lump rise in his throat. He took the bacon from Raw’s hand, and then took four more pieces from the plate. He made an effort to eat small portion of the breads and cheeses as well.

Raw, meanwhile, ate quietly.

“What is it?” Ras asked finally, when he noticed Raw was chewing more than just buttered bread.

Raw didn’t look up. “You...you must call me by my new name now.”

 _Of course,_ Ras thought. _Now that we have a house, we have new names._

“Did they choose one for me as well?”

Raw nodded. “I am Mitth’raw’nuruodo. And you are Mitth’ras’safis.”

Ras thought for a moment. He could see Raw was bothered by this. “We could call you Thrawn.”

Raw shrugged.

“It’s a nice name. Thrass is not so bad either.”

“Thrass,” Raw murmured.

“Thrawn,” Ras practiced.

A quirky smile flickered on Raw’s face at hearing his new name before it vanish into his usual austere look. “We are going to have a good life here, Thrawn,” Ras said, the name sounding not as unnatural as he expected.

Raw flinched. “I know...Thrass...”

“No more starving nights. No more desperate searches to find shelter before a storm comes. No more stealing from shops and passerbys. This House is a good fit. They seem kind. We have a home here.”

“I know.” Raw did not meet his brothers eyes, popping a piece of cheese into his mouth.

“Then what’s wrong?”

“Tonight, can I still be Raw? And you can still be Ras? I’m not ready to not be _us_ anymore.”

Ras smiled. “I know what you mean. Will it help you to know that in this House we will be more ‘us’ than we’ve ever been? We will be the ‘us’ we were meant to be, not just survivors eating out of trash bins?”

Raw scooted the last piece of bacon to Ras.

“Alright,” Ras picked up the piece. “We can still be Ras and Raw tonight. Tomorrow, we will start fresh as Thrass and Thrawn.” Out of habit he extended his hand. “Here take the last piece. I’m full.”

Raw gave Ras a venomous look, baring his teeth and hissing.

“Alright, alright.”

Ras ate the last piece. It was perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr! [White Rainbow](http://white-rainbowff.tumblr.com/)  
> 


End file.
